


Day 4: Bad Ideas

by GemmaRose



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha/Beta/Omega terminology, Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Friendship, M/M, Minor Injuries, Nosebleed, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Pre-Voltron: Legendary Defender, Shapeshifting, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: That... actually made some sense. Then again, Zarkon had a certain gift for making the most insane plans sound moderately sane, and Alfor never realized how bad it was until they were already in far too deep. “So you’re saying we, what, have practice sex with each other?”“Yeah.” Zarkon nodded.





	Day 4: Bad Ideas

“You want to do what?” Alfor felt his face scrunching up, and almost dropped the shimoian shift he was practicing.

“Have sex.” Zarkon said, not even looking up from the essay he was writing.

“Why?” if shimoians had noses, Alfor was certain his would’ve wrinkled.

“Well, both our fathers are rulers, so anything we do reflects on them.” Zarkon pushed back from his desk and spun his chair to face Alfor. “So if we went and had flings with random people, it’d be in tabloids across the system by the end of the quintant, and all over the universe by the end of the movement.”

“Still not seeing a point to this.” Alfor said drily.

“Well, we’re both going to be of marrying age soon, right?” Zarkon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “Especially you, since you’re a diplomat and all. Didn’t you say your dad is married on like twenty planets?”

“Twenty three.” Alfor nodded.

“And I’m going to be expected to marry an omega of respectable lineage and continue the family name.” Zarkon explained. “But how are either of us going to please our future partners if we don’t have any experience?”

That... actually made some sense. Then again, Zarkon had a certain gift for making the most insane plans sound moderately sane, and Alfor never realized how bad it was until they were already in far too deep. “So you’re saying we, what, have practice sex with each other?”

“Yeah.” Zarkon nodded. “And hey, you can practice holding a shifted form under duress.”

Alfor laughed, and shook his head. “The things you get me to agree to.”

“So you’re down for it?”

“Yeah.” Alfor nodded. “I mean, I’m on birth control, and we’re both clean right?”

“Of course.” Zarkon lowered his arms. “So the only real risk is that it could make things awkward.”

“Aww, c’mon Zarky.” Alfor grinned as his friend scowled at the nickname. “I promise I won’t make things awkward if you won’t.”

“I won’t make it awkward if you stop calling me that.” Zarkon growled, but there was no threat behind the sound.

“I can promise a movement, but nothing more.” Alfor effected a lofty tone.

“Two.”

“Did you want to practice sex with me or not?” he asked, undoing the ties on his shirt as he scooted back against the wall which formed the headboard. “We can work out the particulars later, as long as we both agree not to let this make things weird between us.”

“I did not expect you to be so enthusiastic about this.” Zarkon admitted, standing and pushing his chair in before crossing the room to sit on the foot of the bed. His own crisp shirt was fastened with buttons, and Alfor kept half an eye out as he undid them.

“Well, sex with someone else is better than your your own hand.” Alfor shrugged. “Fact of life.” he pulled his shirt over his head, and after a moment of thought stood and walked over to fold it on top of Zarkon’s bedside table.

“Even if that someone else has a mug like yours.” Zarkon snorted. Alfor pulled off a shoe and whipped it at his friend, startling a laugh out of the galra. “What? Those eyebrows look weird as hell on a shimoian face.”

“Well, how do they look on this face?” Alfor asked, and focused on changing his appearance to a galran one. This form was easy as breathing, and Zarkon looked him over with a critical eye before smirking.

“Still weird.”

Alfor threw his other shoe, and Zarkon caught it in mid-air. “What? You have weird eyebrows.”

Alfor released his galran shift, and returned to the shimoian one he’d been holding earlier. “Well you have a weird mouth.”

“Not like you’re gonna be kissing it.” Zarkon chuckled, and tossed Alfor his shoes. “Good idea, folding our clothes.”

“Well, you asked me instead of one of your classmates to be discrete, right?” Alfor shrugged. “Wrinkled clothes are a dead giveaway.”

“I asked you because I trust you.” Zarkon corrected. “There’s only one of my classmates I trust even half as much, and he’s exclusively interested in betas.”

“Aww, you’re such a sap Zarky.” Alfor teased. A shoe hit him in the back of his head, and he laughed. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop.” he apologised, tucking his socks in his shoes and returning the one Zarkon had thrown at him. Folding his pants was easy, and when he turned away from smoothing them down on top of his shirt Zarkon was already sitting on the bed. Alfor had seen his friend shirtless more than a few times, and he would freely admit that the galran prince was attractive by altean standards as well as galran ones. He had not, however, seen Zarkon naked from the waist down before.

He knew, in theory, what galran anatomy looked like. He’d had to study one of their anatomy textbooks while perfecting his galran shift. Life was a bit different than theory, though. Zarkon’s dick looked nothing like the one in the textbook, a roughly conical tentacle the exact purple of galran blood writhing lazily between his thighs. It didn’t look too terribly different from his own equipment, when he looked like himself and not a shimoian, so at least he wasn’t dealing with something totally unfamiliar. “Sooo...” Alfor said awkwardly.

“So.” Zarkon said, looking away and shifting awkwardly.

“Would it be easier if I looked galran?” Alfor asked.

“Maybe?” Zarkon sounded uncertain. Alfor shut his eyes, inhaled deeply, and shifted to a slightly different galran form than he usually took.

“Let’s do this.” he said determinedly, walking forwards and past Zarkon, climbing on the bed to seat himself in the middle of the mattress. “It’s going to be awkward no matter what, right?”

“Right.” Zarkon nodded, moving to kneel in front of him. “Um, I think this’ll be easiest if you’re on your back.”

Alfor laid down, and shivered slightly as Zarkon stroked himself. His own cock, an un-flexible sorta-cylinder of flesh, was half hard when his friend shuffled closer and put a hand on his hip. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Alfor smiled weakly, and Zarkon’s tip slid into him.

It felt, well, weird. Not a good or bad weird, just... strange. Different. Zarkon halted after a few seconds, breathing heavily, and Alfor reached up to flick him in the nose. “I know that’s not all you’ve got.” he teased.

“It’s a strange feeling.” Zarkon huffed, pushing in further. Alfor could feel the slight ridges now, pulling at his entrance as they passed, and it definitely did feel strange.

“Let’s try something.” Alfor suggested, latching his legs around Zarkon’s hips and gripping his friend’s shoulders. Zarkon nodded hesitantly, and Alfor rolled them over so he was on top. Zarkon’s dick slid mostly out of him as he rearranged his legs, but once he was steady he bent his knees.

Zarkon made a strangled sound as Alfor sank onto his length, a shiver tracing up his spine at the foreign feeling which wasn’t pain or pleasure, just raw sensation. He braced himself on Zarkon’s shoulders and started raising and lowering himself, watching how his friend’s breath hitched and stuttered. What would this be like in his natural form, with someone he loved romantically? Hopefully better, but that was why they were doing this, so that their future partners wouldn’t have to deal with inexperienced idiots.

“I think I’m supposed to be the one putting in effort here.” Zarkon said, gripping Alfor by the hips and rolling them over. Right over the edge of the mattress.

Alfor’s yelp of pain at his elbow striking the bedframe was muted to a grunt by Zarkon’s face slamming into his sternum, and they pulled apart groaning in pain.

“Quiznack, that hurts.” Alfor hissed, rubbing at his stinging elbow and then his aching chest as he returned to his natural form.

“I think I broke my face.” Zarkon groaned, pinching at his nose.

“Well, all your teeth are still in, so I think it’s just your nose.” Alfor said, pushing himself roughly upright. Ow, yeah, his sternum was definitely bruised at the least. “My father’s ship has a cryo-pod in the back.” he said, getting to his feet and grabbing his pants and underthings. The undergarments he pulled on quickly, and from his pants pocket he fished his handkerchief to toss to Zarkon. “I’ve seen it operated a few times, I can probably get it to fix your nose and my chest.” he fastened his pants and reached for his shirt.

“That sounds like a terrible plan.” Zarkon deadpanned, voice thick like he had a really bad cold.

“Well, unless you have a story to tell the pod tech on _this_ ship, I think it’s our best plan.” Alfor rebutted.

“Remind me to never let you make battle strategies.” Zarkon grumbled, getting up and pulling on his own clothes one-handed, the other held to his nose to stem the bloodflow with Alfor’s kerchief.

“Hey, this whole thing was your idea in the first place.” Alfor huffed.

“You went along with it.” Zarkon argued, and Alfor rolled his eyes. If anyone asked, he was entirely pinning this one on Zarkon.


End file.
